


(Un)Holy

by perseusjacksonjasongrace



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, MAAS Sarah J. - Works, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: M/M, Smut, ciara writes things and pretends she knows what she's doing, crackships keep fandom alive, mature themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28429092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perseusjacksonjasongrace/pseuds/perseusjacksonjasongrace
Summary: Their hands may be invisible, but their sins are not.
Relationships: dorian x rhysand, rhysand x dorian, rhysian
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	(Un)Holy

**Author's Note:**

> This contains graphic sexual content and is not intended for persons under the age of 18. Discretion is advised.

He gasps and the sound is like smoke in his lungs— invasive, addictive. A warm, wet tongue trails against the heat of his skin, catching on his collarbone where teeth bite softly. His feet curl into the bed sheets, back arching like the entrance to a chapel. Whatever they are doing is not holy.

“Please,” His voice quivers— pleasure, pain, _life_ , teetering at the edge of his nerves.

“Please what King?” That voice has crumbled mountains and raised oceans.

He cannot breathe as a sob wracks his body. Curse that dirty, skilled tongue.

He can feel warm breath on the head of his cock and it is an effort to stay alive.

“Please fuck me.”

“Is this not your punishment my King?”

His cock is enveloped by heat and sin and the world goes black.

“Fuck!” His hands strain against the silk binding them to the headboard. As blood red as the fire in his veins.

Teeth graze the sensitive underside of his shaft and every muscle in his body clenches. He needs to touch, to feel, to chase.

“Please!” He sobs.

Those teeth latch around the barbell piercing at the head of his cock and tug. He screams. It is pain. It is glory. It is release.

He sees stars as that hot mouth covers him once more, lapping up the hot spurts he’d been denied from releasing.

The veins in his forearms run like rivers as he strains against his bondages. He needs to sink his hands into that midnight hair. He needs to kiss that beautiful mouth.

“Please Highlord.” He begs, fingers dancing for his lover.

And those violet eyes gleam with darkness and desire as he kisses his way back up and brushes their lips together.

Gently the silk bindings are loosened and he groans as he finally gets to touch. His hands are everywhere all at once. Face, neck, chest, back, thighs, shoulders, _wings_.

“Do not play with me,” The Highlord shudders.

“I wouldn’t dare.” Blue eyes are bright with mischief.

An invisible hand, as cold as ice, runs down the most sensitive panel of those graceful black wings.

“Are you going to make _me_ beg this time?”

His smile is wicked as he pulls them together and kisses the lust between them to life. “I’m going to make you scream.”

The Highlord’s groan sounds like a prayer. “Do your worst King.”

Dorian Havilliard looks at Rhysand with ruination in his eyes, and thrust into him in one smooth motion. And they descend to the worlds below the chapel as they find heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me your thoughts, beautiful human!


End file.
